


The Village of the End

by ProphetCassandra



Category: Naruto
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-31
Updated: 2017-06-08
Packaged: 2018-11-07 02:47:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11049702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProphetCassandra/pseuds/ProphetCassandra
Summary: One of those modern AUs where Uchiha Corps is a thing. Also a slave fic. And other horrible things.Potential triggers: opioid use (only in first chapter, I think), non-con, slavery, general corruption, poverty, adult life.





	1. The Village of the End (or, Haku's Story)

Naruto was seated at his kitchen table, rifling through a stack of mail that had just come in. The surface of the table was completely covered in dust, scattered sheets of paper and textbooks, with the sunlight fracturing the space into squares through the windowpanes, revealing the particles of dust suspended in the air in a silent dance. The scuffed plastic silver digital clock revealed that it was 5:49am—the sun had only just risen. Normally, Naruto would not be awake this early if it were up to him;his double shift at the cafe did not begin until 11, and university made it so his schedule would remain busy even after dropping his first shift once school restarted. But nightmares had prevented that. He’d woken up at 5:03, panting and covered in a film of sweat, turning immediately to snap on the light. He could not recall his nightmares aside from dark corridors and red eyes, waiting. Awake, he retained only the primordial fear they had instilled him. It felt like a queer mixture of tar and ice had replaced his blood.

A few more breaths, and he arose shakily, shuffling off to the mailbox in his orange shirt and black boxers, sliding on a dilapidated pair of straw sandals.

Down the narrow, dark hallway, floored with cheap fake out, to the concrete stoop, Naruto shivered. The weather was colder than he had anticipated. His sweat had begun to dry and cool, making him feel clammy. Frost delicately enshrined each blade of grass, and a heavy mist had settled over the city of Konoha that morning. His flat was situated at the bottom of a hill on the outskirts of the city, though he could still see the looming shadows the taller buildings in the main city cast against the clouds of mist.

He turned around, locking his mailbox in the ot he shared with two other tenants, before quickly walking back inside. He had never seen a trace of either of the other two residents aside from a calico cat with a flattened and absurdly chubby face skulking around periodically. He glanced around for the cat as an afterthought. Sure enough, there it was, hiding behind a trash can.

“Hey…”

The cat did not take well to the humans murmur, hissing, it’s eyes flashing a malicious, sickly green before it scampered into the alley behind the building.

“Dick…” Naruto muttered as he filed back inside. He glanced down at his hand.  _ Oh, shit… _ These were all bills. The sense of deep foreboding had not entirely dissipated and began to gnaw at him again with the hungry teeth of a starving wolf.

He broke out in a cold sweat again, feeling goosebumps and a surge of heat pass through him. He began to flick through them. Cell phone. Heating. Electricity. Water. Internet. And at the bottom of the stack, an unnervingly light one from the university of Konoha.

With a trembling hand, he did ripped open the last one.

“ _ Dear Uzumaki Naruto _ .  _ Please see the item below. _

And then, in a larger font:

_ “STUDENT BILLING: 200,000 due. _

_ Please send payment directly to STUDENT BILLING. Please note enrollment is not formalized and no further action can be taken until payment has been processed in full.”  _

 

Naruto felt the blood drain from his skin, his face. How had this happened? How  _ had  _ this happened? He could have sworn he’d given the stupid form in. He could remember asking Sensei for her signature… And… Maybe that was the problem.

His head was spinning. He felt for other envelopes on the desk, rifling through piles of papers and knocking over piles of garbage, until he found a beaten envelope with his own scrawling loop on the front of it after he’d entirely emptied the contents of his backpack onto his bedroom floor. He ripped it open with a quivering hand, preparing himself to reread the words he knew.

 

_ DROP FORM. NAME: Uzumaki, Naruto. MAJOR: Forensic sciences. FALL/SPRING/SUMMER (Please circle circle the appropriate semester)  _ (spring was circled here)  _ CLASS YEAR. COURSE NAME _ :  _ Computer information. COURSE NUMBER… _ And on and on, to the bottom of the page.  _ ADVISOR’S SIGNATURE:  _ (Iruka had signed).  _ PROFESSOR’S SIGNATURE _ . ____ had signed as well. Naruto sat, stunned as if he’d just received a blow to the back of the head. How could he have forgotten to give in the drop form? How could he have been so stupid? 

He remembered now. After he’d gotten her signature, he’d felt as if his job was done. He’d felt so relieved, that, when he went outside and ran into Konohamaru he had forgotten entirely about his supposed trajectory toward the registrar… 

 

He’d have to talk to the dean. Or maybe he’d just ask Iruka. That would be easier. 

He sat frozen in a quivering panic. There was no way he could pay for all of these. Maybe three of them. He put the ripped envelopes and pieces of paper aside, taking his head into his hands, pushing empty containers of ramen, textbooks, and dust out of the way with his elbows. Maybe he didn’t need heating? He definitely didn’t need heating. And Internet… Well, he was used to staying in the library after hours, anyway. But what about his flatmates? They might stir from their depths into a rage. Electricity? Naruto uneasily tried to imagine himself living without light. He’d probably kill himself falling out of bed, or cooking a packet of ramen…

He wanted to cry. This wouldn’t do. He stood, and numbly went to dress himself without paying attention to which of his three pairs of pants he was grabbing, zipping up his hoodie, grabbing his backpack, and yanking on his navy sneakers, pulling of flakes of the aged leather.

He started outside, through the claustrophobic hallway, the second door with the deadbolts, past the shared mailbox that looked like an ugly birdhouse with its black faux-thatched top and was coated in a beige paint that had become filthy with time. He opened and locked the fence, which had received the same paint job as the mailbox, and up the hill, through a neighborhood of houses that looked similar to his. Old grannies and grandfathers shuffled in slippers to get papers. Most of them looked decrepit, many had cheap cigarettes dangling out of their mouths and they paused, behind their fences, to cast a wary eye at their young neighbor as he trudged past, up to the part of the suburb that was the beginning of the larger connection to the city.

Naruto was out of breath by the time he reached the strip malls at the top of the hill. Although it was a strip mall, still, this one was more central—it could actually be walked to. The houses had already become higher rise, casting strange shadows in the hanging mist. Naruto checked his cracked digital watch. 6:32 am. He might as well go to the university—Iruka was probably there. And, although classes had not begun yet, the beginning of the semester was in three days, as the first class always took place on a Wednesday in an effort to allow the students some time to readjust.

Naruto sped walked up through the neighborhood panting. This particular region of the suburbs was fairly hilly, though it soon gave into more level ground about half an hour later as he arrived at the true edge of the city. It was a more upscale area, evidenced by the wider, more regular streets and the side of the buildings, some of which were modern, but most of the shops and residences were traditional wooden buildings, made of oak that had darkened and dried over the years into a deep, weathered brown.

The fragrant scent of cooking fish wafted from one of the shops, pricking Naruto's eyes and making them water, penetrating to the pit of his stomach which growled in response. He was so hungry, he wanted to cry. Yet he didn't even know if he could afford a full meal in this neighborhood. He paused, staring longingly across the street through the large glass windows of the store. There were already a few customers inside, but one in particular caught his eye. She was unusually dressed, for one thing, in wide cut green-grey pinstripe pants that reached to the mid calf and a matching turtleneck. A green robe with a white trim covered the ensemble, and her delicate feet were clad in wooden platform sandals. Such a traditional outfit was unusual in the Leaf Village (as it was known by its residents). The look was complete by a the organization of her hair into a bun, contained in a circle of cotton bound in place with a slender blue ribbon.

Naruto frowned. This was a traditional outfit, for sure, but not from this region. Who was this person?

More importantly, why did it feel familiar?

She had finally made it to the front of the line, and, snapping her burgundy coin purse shut, finally turned her head until a pair of enormous, lovely brown eyes became visible, surrounded by a perfect scape of almost white flesh. The forehead was a little wide, enhancing the largeness of the eyes and the delicacy of the perfectly straight nose and dainty lips.

Naruto’s eyes widened. “HEY! HAKU!” He yelled, waving his arms wildly as he dodge the other pedestrians who glared at him with annoyance as he wove through them like a tide.

The beautiful eyes, whose color was a dark, muted brown that was somehow infused with a gray coolness rather than the vivacity of a tree warmed. “Naruto. It has been a while. How are you?”

“I-I’m…” Naruto began to wilt as he began to reflect honestly on his state of being. On the edge of eviction? About to fail his final year of university, if he had not been expelled from the university already?

“I’m great!” He gave his dark haired friend a toothy smile. “Just on my way to visit Iruka. How are you? I haven’t seen you since high school!”

Haku gazed at him analytically. “I’m alright as well. I was just shopping for dinner. Would you like to come over? I just made breakfast.”

“Breakfast?!?” Naruto’s stomach leapt with joy. “Of course! I’m STARVING!”

Haku smiled. Naruto hadn’t changed a bit. “Come this way.”

The two walked together in silence as the mist around them finally began to dissipate, though the ___ of quiet it had brought with it did not. It hadn’t occurred to either of the young men to feel awkward; they had been close in the orphanage they had spent their childhood in. Naruto, in particular standing up for Haku when other children would tease him for his feminine appearance, with Haku nursing Naruto wounds after Naruto had incurred a beating for his friend. Haku remembered how he’d have to brush the scratches, bruises, and cuts with rough paper towels, dirty sponges, disintegrating toilet paper. He used to wish there was a better way…

The pair rounded a corner into a side street. Haku lead Naruto to the last of the houses in the row. It was even quieter here, and the house overlooked a garden choked with ivy and tall purple weeds, a cement fountain barely visible in the middle. It was built in the same dark wood as those on the street, and in the same traditional style. There were a few steps that lead up to a porch, then a sliding door of rice paper.

“Wow!” Naruto’s eyes widened, shining azure, and his loud exclamation broke the tranquil silence. “You live  _ here _ ?”

Haku inclined his head slightly. “Yes. I do now. Could you wait out here for a moment?”

Naruto nodded, though he knew it wasn’t really a question. Haku had already started to walk up the porch. He disappeared into the house, shutting the door behind him.

Naruto craned his neck in an effort to see the interior, but was only able to divine a few succulents hanging out of a small, high window.. Haku lived  _ here _ ? In this house with it’s sloping, thatched roof? beautiful neighborhood, with its pricey shops and clean, paved roads? What could he possibly be doing now? Haku had dropped out of high school in junior year, so Naruto hadn’t known Haku went to college. He must have, right? Or maybe he had done something more lucrative, managed to secure some kind of stake in a company? Maybe he did technology, Haku had always been smart…

Another pang of hunger distracted him from questions of career.  _ I hope Haku comes back soon… _

As if on cue, the rice paper door slid open again. Haku smiled from the inside of the house, this time clad in a pink sleeveless obi with a red trim*. His hair was down now, and Naruto could see a black silk choker, two fingers in width, around his friend’s delicate white neck, either recently put on or perhaps hidden under the turtleneck from before. The smell of cooking wafted from the house now. “Come in, Naruto. Would you like some tea?” 

Naruto nodded, ignoring the stairs and springing on to the porch itself, nearly running into the house. He was too hungry to speak. Haku nodded for Naruto to sit at the table on the floor, and he did so, plopping down on a cushion and crossing his legs. He watched Haku busy himself at the stove while all sorts of delightful scents rose into his nostrils. Breathless, Naruto watched as Haku poured miso into a bowl before plucking a spoon from a drawer of silverware and placing it in the bowl, then the bowl upon a tray of rice and dried strips of mackerel. 

He approached the table, handing the food to Naruto who began to attack it before Haku even had the chance to fold his legs beneath him, sitting like a geisha.

Haku watched Naruto eat voraciously, a small smile on his face.

Now that he had eaten, Naruto began to feel normal again. He was able to take in his surroundings, which, he noticed, were sparse, though exceptionally beautiful. There was a table, painted a dark shade of rose and teal that supported an ornate golden sculpture that was too abstract for Naruto to ponder it for long. The only furnishings aside from these and the dining table was a faded tapestry that appeared to be of a masked man engaged in battle with a fiery peacock. The kitchen was a sort of half-room—half in the living room, but then dissected by a partition. Another door on the other side of the room most likely lead, somehow, to the other rooms of the house.

“Thank you, Haku!” Naruto smiled again, placing the drained bowl on the table before turning to the fish, rice, and soybeans. “I thought I was gonna die!”

Haku nodded. “My pleasure.”

“So,” asked Naruto between bites, “How did you end up living here? This place is great.” Naruto’s head snapped up as he felt something thicken in the air and paused momentarily, chopsticks hovering.

Haku’s gaze had hardened slightly, and he looked for a moment far into the distance. 

“Um, what’s up?”

“Remember how I left school in junior year?” Haku’s normally lilting voice was still and low, with a faint edge to it.

“Y-yes. How could I forget? I missed you so much.”

“I… Broke my shoulder earlier that year.”

Naruto nodded, feeling a twinge of guilt. He remembered that, too—they’d been climbing the rope in gym class. It was Haku’s turn. Naruto had called Haku’s name, distracting him, before tugging the bottom of the rope. Haku, normally so effortlessly graceful, had fallen. Naruto didn’t remember any more why he had done that—probably just to be annoying. But he remembered the expression on Haku’s face as he’d fallen. His eyes were wide, hopelessly confused, while his delicate lips had formed an “O”, this expression frozen on his face like a bad cartoon as he fell. Naruto had tried to catch him, but, entranced in the nightmarish moment, had only gotten in the way.

“The break itself was… Bearable, in a sense of the word. But they sent me home with painkillers that were almost double the dosage I needed. They just underestimated my weight compared to my height, I guess.”

Haku looked down at the ground as he said all of this, while Naruto stared. “I couldn’t not take them—it would have been agony. But when I did take them, I got so high. I didn’t even understand, at the time, that I shouldn’t have felt like that after taking my medication. But I had a creeping suspicion…” He shook his head and continued. ”Because I was on so much medication, my tolerance for them became extremely high. By the end of the first week, I had learned how to feel normal on that much OxyContin—I needed to. By the third week, I needed it to feel normal. At some point I stopped going to school.”

Haku glanced at Naruto. “You understand?”

Naruto nodded dumbly as his friend continued.

“By the fifth week, my arm was still in a sling, but I was out of drugs. I began to spend whatever I could on Oxycontin. Then it became oxycodone. I finally started smoking opium all the time. I’d already begun to dabble, but… I was broken. Everything hurt so much when I wasn’t high. It felt like the pain had been sewn into my muscles. It was in my bones.” Haku paused for a moment, sipping his tea.

“I was lying on the floor of a den in the valley of the end when I realized I was out, again. I closed my eyes. I could feel the tears running down my face, although I did not believe I felt anything inside at the time. Then, I suddenly felt something on my cheek. A gentle touch. Normally I would have opened my eyes. But I just couldn’t I lay there as a stranger’s cold hand stroked my face. I knew whatever happened, I would be defenseless. I just lay there.”

Naruto felt his breath catch in his throat. His eyes were wide, and he could not tear his gaze away from the speaker. He gripped the chopsticks so hard his knuckles had begun to turn white.

“Then that person, the one touching me spoke. His voice was so—normal. So calm. He said, ‘Wouldn’t you rather be anywhere but here?’ I felt the tears coursing down my face increase. I nodded. I opened my eyes. I realized I was looking at a young man with gray hair and glasses. He smiled at me.

“‘I can take you away from here. But you have to do what I say, and you have to stay with me.’ I knew what that could mean. But he was right—I’d rather have been anywhere than where I was. He could see that. And also long as he wasn’t going to assault me then…”

Naruto gaped at Haku, the tea and food forgotten. He realized that his chopsticks had splintered in his hands, leaving them full of bloody little nicks.

“…And even if he was going to assault me later, that was just going to be something I’d deal with in the future. I couldn’t compute that much, then. Couldn’t think about anything except trying to stay alive, one moment at a time. So I followed him. He took me into a taxi. I leaned against the window of the car, feeling simultaneously motion sick and safe. It was the first time in years I’d been inside a taxi… It felt so tranquil, compared to the city, the allies, the people… We arrived in the financial district, I think it was. In front of an enormous black office building. We went around the back entrance… There was no way I could have gone in the front looking like I did.” Haku almost smiled. Naruto, still engrossed, had begun to absentmindedly pick out the splinters while he listened, staining his finger tips with pin pricks of blood.

“He took me inside the way the delivery boys and the cooks go in. We walked past all of that, the cafeteria and the offices I mean. We went down a flight of stairs, through a hall, and up a grimy elevator. I almost started to become afraid. But then…” Haku’s eyes had become distant again, “We got out of the elevator. The man I was with, he pushed aside a curtain. And we were in an enormous office. It was spacious, but full of antiquities from other countries. There was, I think, a circular Persian rug that covered the floor of the room. It was very unusual. There was a man standing at the window—the window reached from the floor to the ceiling. The only things I could see about him were that he was wearing a dark suit and a cascade of long, dark hair down his back. He turned to look at me and the man with gray hair. At me.

“Then he moved toward us, slowly. A panther confidant on his own turf. I felt like I was underwater. Maybe he wasn’t moving slowly, I was the frozen one. But he had the eyes of a panther. Gold. I suppose you’d call them tawny, or hazel. But they appeared to glow, no, burn, like molten gold, or fire… Anyway. He came close. First, ran his fingers down my cheek, as had the other. He took my wrist in his hand, pushed up my sleeve and examined my right arm, then my left. Then he looked at the guy with gray hair and said, ‘Good work, Kabuto. He’s skinny, but he’s beautiful. And skinny can always fixed. Ugly, never.’ And he grinned. Kabuto nodded. I realized I hadn’t even known his name.” Haku shook his head, and let out a small burst of air that was near to a laugh. “How badly that could have turned out. Forgive me, I keep digressing. He examined my arm, as I said. Then he—the dark haired one—cupped my face in his hands, looking me in the eye. As much as I could look anyone in the eye at that time. And he asked me if I knew why I was there. His voice was silken and rasping all at once. I said, I didn’t know. He turned to Kabuto, saying ’Tch. Leaving me to do all the work again, aren’t you?’ Kabuto laughed. ‘We both know your gift of persuasion far outranks mine, Orochimaru-san.’

“Orochimaru smiled before turning to cup my face again. He scrutinized me with those gold-eyes—snake’s eyes, I think I’ll call them—well, as much as I could, I was still nodding off, the aching was so much. He said, ‘You feel like a husk of your former self, don’t you?’ I nodded.

“He looked at me for a few moments. ’Sit here.’ He pointed to the top of the desk, and I approached on wobbling legs. He hoisted me onto the end, facing the side of the office rather than the front. Facing him.

“‘And you’d give anything you can to regain control? Of your body, I mean. Isn’t that right?

“I kept nodding. I think I began to cry again, but I’m not completely sure. He watched me for a moment before saying, ‘I can help you regain control. Would you like that?’

“I nodded. ‘More than anything.’ 

“’And I can help you do more than that. I imagine your life hasn’t been easy. I don’t think mommy and daddy are there to help you. If they were, Kabuto wouldn’t have brought you to me.’

I hung my head. ‘But you seem like a good kid. So let’s be optimistic. Let’s say, this works. You dedicate yourself to the regimen I assign you to. That I hold you to. Once you are clean, what are you going to do? Wander back into whatever you left behind, gather the pieces? Tell the people you left behind that everything’s okay now, because you’re clean? Tell the landlord, the university, whatever else, that everything’s okay, because your clean?’ Orochimaru shook his head. ‘That’s not how it works. You’ll only be able to go back once you can sustain yourself. You’ll be independent. You’ll be able to afford a better house than most of your friends. You’ll be able to be there for them—to make up for breaking away from the people that loved you, the ones that needed you, or the ones that may have unwittingly relied on you.’

“‘But… How?’ I asked. I was suddenly conscious of how dry my mouth was. How thirsty I was. Orochimaru stared at me, then turned his head and snapped, “Kabuto, get this boy some water. Both of our etiquette thus far has been atrocious.’ He looked at me again. ‘My apologies. Now, as for how…’ Then, he placed his fingers underneath my chin, tilting my face upward, and kissed me. I felt his long tongue intertwine with mine. I didn’t know what to do. I just gave into the pressure, tilted my head back. Something about it felt so organic that I almost felt safe, even though he simultaneously had a deeply sinister quality… But I was so used to steeping in the evil of the opium houses that I barely noticed it at the time. When our faces parted, I realized he was smiling at me.

“’Excellent,’ He said. ‘It seems you're almost ready to begin treatment.’

“My brain felt so clouded. I couldn’t determine the likelihood of the reality of a single thing he was saying. So I asked, ‘But… How will I get the money?’

“Then he laughed. ‘Sweet boy, addled as you are, you still worry about the important things. Here, have some,’ and he handed me a glass of water. I hadn’t even realized that Kabuto had returned—that he’d possibly been present while his master kissed me. I drank, trying to gain some clarity.

“’First of all, we put you through a private treatment program. By private, I don’t mean a private hospital, but a private residence. It will function similarly—in fact, home treatment is, I believe preferable. None of those oppressive, auxiliary rules they have at hospitals. Around the clock service.  _ Good _ food. And many other amenities, besides.’ He listed these off while keeping his eyes fixed on me. ‘I’m sure you know, but withdrawal isn’t easy. It will be painful. You will wake up screaming, sweating, shaking, alone in the night, dying for another hit to make it go away. You will endure extreme physical discomfort. Your stomach, in particular, will rebel against you. You may try to leave my care because your cravings may grow so intense. You may even try to steal from me,’ he tilted his head at this slightly and smiled again, ‘Although, you look and sound like such an angel, I’d be shocked. But’—his tone became serious again—‘We are prepared for all of these possibilities. In fact, although you may not believe me now, I have seen—and cured—far worse. Among other things, I am a certified doctor. Do you trust me with this?’

“I nodded.

“Good, because I don’t know how many other choices you have, at this point. After you are clean, then the real fun—the real reason Kabuto has brought you to me—becomes apparent.’ He leaned in again, one of his hands brushing my left knee. ‘You will enter into a five year contract as a… Personal assistant. You’ll even earn ’

“I felt myself becoming slightly more lucid. ‘What does that entail?’

“Emotional and physical labor. You seem like a very sensitive young man, so I trust the former will be of little consequence to you. The latter, though it may seem difficult at first, will become easy with time.’

“‘What kind of physical labor?’

“‘Sexual labor.’

“‘I see. How… Does that benefit me?’

“A momentary annoyance flashed over Orochimaru’s features in a terrifying mask before evaporating. ‘You mean, besides saving your life? To put it bluntly, we sell—or loan you to a wealthy client. Part of their payment is the erasure of your personal debt, so the government, your landlord, whatever—don’t start sniffing around for you. You disappear for three to five years. Then, you reemerge into the world. But now, you’re clean. You have no more debt. You can even make a little—or a lot of money—if you play your cards right, if you can sweet talk your master. Isn’t that what you want?’

“I exhaled. ‘Yes.’”

“He smiled at me, running his fingers through my hair. ‘Excellent. Kabuto, hand me the scissors. We need to cut him out of these filthy clothes. Would you fetch some new ones from downstairs?”

 

———

 

Haku looked at Naruto at the conclusion of his story. Naruto felt the nicks in his fingers stinging but he didn’t care. “Wow. So you… Here…”

Haku looked impassive again. “Yes. For lack of a better description… I am kept.”

“Hey, well… There’s nothing wrong with that! You’re still Haku to me. You always will be.” Naruto’s voice became normal again. “Besides…” he touched Haku’s shoulder gently. “I’m glad you’re okay now.”

Haku smiled. “Thank you, Naruto. Would you like to tell me about yourself?”

“I—I—“ Perhaps it was because Haku’s story had overwhelmed him, because of the bills in the mail that morning, the sudden realization that he would not be returning to university that year, or all of those, but tears filled Naruto’s eyes. He covered his eyes with his hands. “I’m sorry, I just—I can’t—I don’t know what to do. I can’t pay for anything, I can’t go back to school… I already owe Iruka so much money, I just can’t…”

“Shh…” Haku wrapped his arms around his friend. “I know it feels like the end now, but… There’s always a way. University will always be there. There is still time for your dreams, always. Even if it’s not exactly the way you’d like it to be.”

Naruto quaked, gulping for air as tears ran down his contorted, reddening face.

“I feel so—so stupid—so weak—so  _ useless _ “

“You are so strong, Naruto. I know you are. Now, breathe with me.” Haku pressed the head of blond hair gently to the left side of his chest. Naruto began to breathe more slowly as he listened to the heart beat. They stayed like that for another minute or so before Naruto pulled away.

“Th—thanks Haku… You know I’m not normally like, this, I just… Yeah.” He stared to his left, shame clouding his blue eyes like a fog over the sea.

Haku smiled. “You never have to worry with me, Naruto.”

Naruto smiled back, though his eyes were still clouded. “I—I know. Is it… Okay if I come back and see you again?”

An indeterminate expression slid over the brunette’s gorgeous face, clearing so quickly Naruto wasn’t sure he hadn’t seen Haku merely blink. “You may come by whenever you wish, but I can’t always promise I’ll be able to answer the door. Furthermore,” Haku’s gaze became steeled, and he touched Naruto’s arm, “Please do not tell anyone where I am. I hate to mention it, but the contract I spoke of before is still in place. I am, at the present moment, according to all known authorities, studying in Switzerland, I think.”

_ Of course, the contract _ . Naruto felt like a moron. “Of course, Haku! You can always count on me. You’re one of my best friends!”

Haku smiled again. “And you are one of mine”.

There was a silence between them, disrupted by only the faint music of a wind chime from somewhere outdoors. The squares of light had become more less distorted as the sun had moved up into the sky.

“What time is it?!?” Naruto checked his watch. 9:00am. To talk to Iruka  _ and  _ get back in time for his shift would be madness. “Shit! I gotta go, Haku,” he began to pull on his orange hoodie and frantically put his shoes back on. “Thanks again for breakfast! You’re the best!” He opened the door abruptly, shutting it a bit too hard behind him as he hopped along the deck frantically putting one shoe on.  _ Shitshitshitshitshitshitshit _ —Naruto ran south toward the university, his flaxen hair stubbornly and ridiculously fanning in all directions.

 

———

 

Iruka was standing in front of his desk, leafing through a stack of assignments from the previous semester, wondering if any of them were worth reusing when he heard a frantic knocking at his door. No, more like banging. “Come in!” He called. He was a little embarrassed that the visitor would have to see his office in such a state of disarray—but it  _ was  _ the Monday before classes began.

“Iruka sensei!” Naruto’s face and hair shone with a thin film of sweat as he panted. His hair, Iruka thought, looked even more outrageous than usual, and his tanned cheeks were flushed. All misgivings about his offices level of cleanliness vanished.

“Oh, it’s you, Naruto. Are you alright?”

Naruto staggered into the office, throwing himself onto the chair in front of the desk. “Iruka,” he gasped for each word, “I just got… The mail… My bill…”

‘Your  _ bill _ ?” Iruka frowned. “Naruto, there must be some mistake. You shouldn’t…”

“I—I autofailed computer information, but it never got removed from my transcript somehow.” Naruto’s eyes were wide and he was breathless.

Iruka felt his own eyes widen, too. “Naruto, you’re telling me… When did you find this out?”

“Today” He felt the tears surge into his eyes again, but fought them back, taking a deep breath. “I got… The letter from student billing in the mail.”

Iruka leaned over the desk. “Are you saying you didn’t check your transcript at the end of last semester?”

“No.” Naruto hung his head. “I just… You know? I knew all of my grades already, so I just…” 

“They mail you at the end of every semester. Didn’t you check your mail?”

“Yes, but I…” Naruto clenched his fists as tears welled up in his eyes. “My apartment… Is so messy.”

Iruka watched Naruto, wishing he didn’t feel so powerless. He nodded, watching the boy in front of him fight to maintain composure.

“Well, as it is, you’d have to take at least a semester off anyway because of the autofail… But now,” Iruka closed his eyes, exhaling loudly, “The best thing to do is withdraw and reapply in the fall semester.”

“God DAMNIT!” Naruto pounded the desk. “God damnit, Iruka. Why the fuck am I so stupid? Why do I fuck everything up? I’m never going to become the head of forensics if I keep doing shit like this. FUCK!” He folded his arms over each other and put his head down to the desk. Iruka watched, placing hand gently on his forearm. 

“Naruto… This isn’t the end of the world. You know I’ll put in a good word for you when readmission rolls around. Besides,” he cleared his throat, “Part of being a good criminologist is… Adaptability. The ability to deal with unforeseen setbacks.”

“Part of being a good criminologist is not fucking up,” Naruto said hoarsely as tears ran down his face.

“Hush. You know I’m right. Besides, everyone makes mistakes. How do you think the government created ROOT? And that wasn’t just one person who messed that up, it was hundreds of qualified individuals…” Iruka was referring to what had once been a branch of the police force that had become too extreme—Danzo, the police commissioner at the time, had begun using psychologically horrifying tactics not just upon the enemy, but those under his own guidance. People had begun to disappear. At first, Kirigakure and Otogakure had been suspected, but it became increasingly apparent than one of their own had been responsible.

Naruto sniffed, but Iruka could tell he was perking up. He looked up and smiled. “You’re right, Iruka sensei. As always” But his face fell again.

There was a pause. Iruka hesitated, cleared his throat. He was reluctant to fracture the hope he had just begun to cultivate in his young charge. “But, what were you saying about this bill?”

Naruto hesitated as well. “They billed me for 200,000 yen. The bastards… It said, 

‘Nothing else can be processed until payment has been received in full’ or something like that”.

“Oh, jeez.” Iruka closed his eyes. “Naruto… I think the only thing you  _ can  _ do right now is withdraw. I don’t… I wish I could help you.”

Naruto blushed. He didn’t want Iruka to help him. He  _ never _ wanted Iruka to help him. It was, frankly, embarrassing that he ever had to ask, that it had become any sort of regular thing. “Thanks so much for everything, Iruka. I’ll… Go withdraw right now. Thanks again.”

He stood up to go, started moving toward the doorway. Iruka watched him turn the handle.

“Naruto?”

“Yes?”

“Take care of yourself.”

Naruto turned around and flashed his toothy grin, giving his mentor a thumbs up. “Don’t worry about me, Iruka! I’ll be okay. You know I always am!”

He shut the door behind him. The office suddenly felt small, cluttered, and suffocating without him. Iruka paused, placing his elbows on the desk fingertips together, holding his face on his thumbs. “I hope you are, Naruto…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... What do you think? Is this boring? Is it stupid? Are the characters whack? Would you like it if I kept going? This is the first fic I've ever written, and setting up the plot took a lot more words than I anticipated... Let me know if it's too much. And... No sexy stuff yet. I promise it's coming up though~
> 
> And if someone is feeling like beta-ing (because when I write it feels like I'm trying to grasp wet noodles lol) I would truly appreciate it.
> 
> In case you’re wondering why Oro is looking at Haku’s arms… It was for track marks. I'm not sure if that's contextually evident.
> 
> I really am trying, in this story, to make addiction more than just a trope… I’m trying to expose, at least a little, why it’s so horrible and make it at least sort of realistic. I don’t plan on showing any active users of anything in this story (except alcohol and marijuana)—only past users. 
> 
> Also… The thing about university not starting until first Wednesday of the semester rather than the first Monday… We began on Tuesday at my university, and did the Wednesday thing in high school, and I don’t have any idea whether it’s actually like that in Japan, but it made sense for the story, mkay?
> 
> On a final note, this chapter is dedicated kinda to Faiza (mistyspecs on tumblr), who helped me out a bit because I asked her to although we'd barely talked before. So thank you, Faiza for generously donating your time and energy to this weird little project of mine. You rock!


	2. Chapter 2

Naruto woke the Friday after he’d visited Haku feeling entirely drained. He’d been too tired to have dreams, at least, but the rest of the week had been bad enough. After talking to Iruka, he’d had to go with draw from the university. The stern dean, Tsunade, had looked down her nose at him the whole time; even her bosom seemed to loom threateningly at him. She’d seemed personally insulted that Naruto had failed to turn in his drop form at the appropriate time. The world “appeal” died on Naruto’s lips the moment the he his blue eyes connected with her hard, tawny gold ones. 

Then he’d sprinted to work, greeted by a furious boss who yelled at him to wash off before any of the customer’s noticed the stench— _ maybe, _ Naruto had thought,  _ customer’s might not notice if you weren’t yelling at me across the joint— _ before catching the bus home. The bus, of course, was limited during late nights and he’d had to walk an extra mile. It wasn’t that it was particularly terrible distance--it just felt that the world was working to inconvenience him, just to magnify his other failures.

He sat up in bed. Normally, Naruto could—and would’ve—fallen back into his stupor for as many hours as humanly possible, but now, he was strangely restless, despite the mindnumbing degradation and misery of the past week. He rose and showered and dressed mechanically. Naruto wanted to see Haku again. 

This morning was more humid than the previous one, and, if there was mist, Naruto had not risen in time for it. He walked purposefully toward the neighborhood he’d passed through yesterday. He thought he was lost at one point, among the beautiful rows of the old-style houses with thatched roofs before he saw the sudden turn that signified the alley they’d walked down together the previous day. He walked down the row—so strangely quiet, he felt as if he c ould hear the dust settling—and sure enough, there was the wraparound wooden porch, the succulents in the window. He noticed a few hanging plants on the porch as well, adding to the sense that the house was sealed off, contained within its own parameters. A different world from the bustling city it was a part of.

Naruto hopped up the stairs, knocking on the sliding door. “Haku! Hey! Haku!”

A few moments later, the door slid open, and Haku stood there, looking as surprised as his placid countenance could.

“Hello, Naruto. What brings you here so soon?”

“I wanted to ask you a couple questions. Can I come in?”

Haku regarded him briefly. “Of course. Would you minding waiting for a minute?”

“Of course.”

Naruto lifted his right foot, then his left foot impatiently in a silent stomp for the brief minutes Haku was gone.

“Please, come in. Would you like some tea?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

Naruto stood in the beautiful, sparse house, feeling strangely possessed as he watched Haku pour water into a kettle at the tiled counter top in the half-exposed kitchen, wandering up to him mindlessly. 

Naruto noticed that there were pieces of paper, drawings, scattered across the table that protruded from the alcove. “What are these?” His voice calmed as he leaned over to examine a group of drawings scattered across the table, done in both brush and pen. He found He recognized the couple renderings Konoha skyline, a portrait of a woman he did not know holding a goat kid, a lake in the middle of the woods. But Naruto was drawn the most to a skyline he did not recognize. Gently sloping buildings covered in winding creepers were intertwined with wispy clouds of mist. Mountains, covered in sprawling flora including the same creepers loomed in the background. Minuscule colonies of deer and goats dotted the background. Each line was delicate and precise, presumably done with a single and exact movement of the wrist. Although the forms were expertly rendered, there was little shading of any kind. Perhaps this particular image had stood out because the artist had begin to go over the greenery of the mountains with a steely shade of green. Naruto turned to his friend, both hands still pressed to the surface of the table. "Wow, Haku. This is great! Where is this? Is it real? I wanna go here?"

Haku inclined his head, but he did not seem perturbed. "The very edge of Kirikagure borders a river. It's where I used to live with my mother, before I came to Konoha." 

"Oh, right!" Naruto stared at the drawing a moment longer. He did not always remember that Haku was from the Hidden Mist. "Do... you miss it?" He asked without averting his eyes.

"Yes," Haku sounded almost taken aback. "It was hard to live there when I did, but... I didn't realize how beautiful it was until I left."

He looked out the window, his porcelain skin and enormous eyes half captured in a sunbeam. "The mist yesterday morning, though... It reminded me, a bit of home. It also felt a bit like fate, running into you."

Naruto's head snapped up. "What, I reminded you of home?" 

“I think something about seeing you made me feel, not as though I was home, but that home was with me.”

Naruto smiled. Hearing Haku say that sent a surge of familial love through him, uplifting his spirit.

“You, too.” His expression turned dark again. “Can I ask you something?”

“Isn’t that why you came here?”

“What… Do you do here?”

Haku remained facing the counter. “I cook, I clean. I read and I write. I draw, as you’ve seen. And I satisfy the other needs of my patron.”   
The calculated structure of the last sentence made Naruto feel wary. “What does that mean? ‘Other needs’?”

“Carnal needs.” The effeminate boy measured tea leaves into to a strainer with a sinuous movement of the wrist. He glanced over his shoulder. “It means I have sex with him”.

“What is that like?”   
“At first, it was painful. But now…” His voice trailed off.

“Was it hard too —what was it like—how do you—I mean, did you want to be with him?”

“I’ve made far worse sacrifices before”.

For once in his life Naruto decided not to press. He wasn’t stupid. He’d never  _ had _ sex with another man, but he could imagine how it might be painful.  “How long have you lived here?”

“Four years.”

“Doesn’t that mean, you’re leaving soon?”

“Not quite.” 

“I thought… Yesterday you said that—Orochimaru said that—it was four”

“Not for me.”

“Why?”

Haku flicked the kettle on before turning back to his friend.

“Getting clean is expensive. It would have cost millions of yen at a private facility, which is, unfortunately, what Orochimaru equates his own form of care to. He said I’d have to be here longer to compensate for the expense.”

“So he lied you!”

“Not quite.”

“Not quite?” Naruto was in disbelief. “He told you four!”

Haku shrugged. “Everything comes with a price. Besides, Orochimaru liked me enough—or at least, I have been valuable and cooperative enough—that I am given a percentage of my earnings every additional year I have stayed. It’s not much, but it’s something. And more than that,” he turned back to the counter, picking up a glass he began to fill with water, “What else would I have done?”

Naruto opened his mouth in disbelief. “You could be doing anything! You could be a famous artist!” He gestured wildly at the drawings on the table. “Or you come come work for the FBI with me, or…” 

“Is that what you’re doing right now? Anything you want?” Haku’s musical voice had acquired a brittle note, ever so slightly.

Naruto opened his mouth, again but for a different reason. He felt his ears redden as he blushed. Naruto had forgotten how cutting Haku’s remarks could be. Worse, and even more embarrassing, was that they were always true. “But you’re not… You wouldn’t forget to turn in a Drop form, like a did… And besides, wouldn’t you rather not be bossed around by someone else?”

Haku’s mouth hardened every so slightly. He glanced out the window, a passive expression taking over his demeanor. “Sometimes, I do. Sometimes I wonder what it would have been like if I had been able to resist Kabuto. I wonder where I would be now. But those thoughts, I’m afraid, are not generally very optimistic. And Zabuza has treated me better in many ways than most I’ve encountered.”   
“Zabuza?”

“My master.”   
Naruto felt the “ _ obviously _ ” clipped onto the end of the sentence. He could sense he might be probing too hard, but he had to know.

“What’s that… What’s he like?”

“He is very particular, among other things. But so am I.” Haku returned to the table with a steaming cup of tea in each hand, which he handed to his guest, before sitting down himself. “He has no patience for fools or blunderers. He is, I think, what you would call a lone wolf.”

“Do… You like him?”

“I suppose I do. He trusts me. And I trust him.” Haku gestured toward the drawings on the table. “He bought me the ink, the paper. And the pastels.” He pointed toward a wooden box on the other side of the table, stacked full of chalk pastel crayons. Naruto didn’t know much about art, but they looked wonderful to him. Even delicious.   
Naruto didn’t know what to think. What did Haku mean by trust? The base of his skull buzzed with confusion. He felt like something was sparking behind his eyes. He watched as Haku stacked the pieces of paper before shutting them into a black lacquer box with an inlay of a dragon on the lid. Haku took the box and exited to—Naruto couldn’t see where—before returning. Naruto stood up, drifting away from the table.

“Why are you asking me these things, Naruto?”

“I don’t know.” Naruto exhaled. “I guess I was just… Thinking about it.”   
“Thinking about what, exactly?”

“Doing… What you do.”

Haku’s milky brown eyes shone, his tone rising slightly with a note of surprise, then dropping with apprehension. “Are you, sure, Naruto?”

“I—I don’t know. But, I think—”

“What do you think?” A rolling, guttural voice penetrated the room.

Naruto jumped about a foot into the air, turning to see an enormous man in the doorframe behind him, even stooping underneath it. He was at least, Naruto guessed, 193cm. His broad shoulders nearly spanned the door frame. His neck was fantastically muscular, resisting the white shirt collar who’s first button was undone. He had dark brown hair, shorn close to the skull, though it stood up in jagged spikes. One might even assume he’d just gotten out of bed if he hadn’t been wearing a grey suit and muted green tie. He loped past Naruto, who caught a whiff of his faint cologne as he pivoted quickly to avoid collision with this mountain of a man who had so suddenly appeared.

There was scraping as the man sat down in the chair Naruto had recently vacated. His gray eyes flashed as he sat down at the table, his long, legs, the width and strength of which could been seen even through the suit, almost absurdly, like an oak tree wrapped in a table cloth. The He eyed the stunned guest with a steely expression on his face. "You're back again?" He asked after a moment.

“Uh—yes. I’m, uh, a friend of Haku’s, from, um, a while ago. We grew up together.”

“I know. Haku told me.” The man raised his eyebrows, which looked like dark slashes etched into his forehead. They seemed to be creased into a permanently cruel expression, emphasized by his high cheekbones and drawn face. Despite his sheer mass, his face vaguely recalled that of a starving wolf’s. "I'm Zabuza Momochi. This is my house. I’m assuming Haku hasn’t told you very much about me, yet. Haku,” He turned to look over his shoulder, before turning back to the stunned Naruto. Naruto suddenly noticed Haku had stood up when Zabuza had entered the room, and now came to stand behind Zabuza, delicately placing his lily-white hand upon a massive, tanned shoulder.

“What were you talking about?”

The question was addressed to both him and Haku, Naruto realized. Haku’s lilting voice wafted through the room, like music. “We were talking about how I came to you.”   
“Huh,” Zabuza almost snorted. “You don’t look like much a domestic, boy. Are you?” Naruto realized that the question was addressed solely to him this time. “Um, yeah, not really.” He felt alarmingly on the spot under the scrutiny of his friend’s ‘master’. “If you mean, like, cleaning and cooking, and stuff…”

“Well,” Zabuza looked at him with a malicious gray eye. “Good thing you’re pretty enough. Good for other things.”

Naruto felt as if there was an underlying threat, or perhaps some kind of insinuation in the statement beyond the sexual. “What do you mean?”

Zabuza raised an eyebrow. “Most of the other people who lease…  _ domestics _ are the type who already have a fleet of other servants to do their work for them. But Haku is special. He’s naturally industrious. It would be foolish to expect someone like him, to let someone like him, deteriorate through idleness. Maintaining a household is takes much more time, precision, and work than most men care to admit. He has his art, too. His books are on the other side of the house. His writing, even his philosophical musings, are more insightful and tasteful than the overwhelming majority of my colleagues. I don’t need them to amuse me. I have Haku.” He baritone voice rumbled through the living room, sweeping through Naruto like a cold front.

“And,” Zabuza turned his head for a fraction of a second, momentarily meeting eyes with the feminine figure behind him. “He has me.”

“But what about… freedom?”

Zabuza did snort this time. His eyes glittered cruelly. “What about it? Do you think you’re free, boy? Do you think with the what, million or so yen you’re in debt, that you’re free? And I can’t imagine that’s it, either. You owe whatever bank you go to, as well, I’d imagine. Maybe even friends, too. I just hope you’re not stupid enough to have taken out more than one loan.”

Naruto flushed angrily, but had nothing to say. He felt his hands rising from his sides. This man was essentially repeating Haku’s earlier sentiment, but with greater and more pointed malice.

“Naruto was thinking about asking me for help,” Haku broke in.   
Zabuza jerked his neck.

“Not with money,” Haku quickly supplied. “He was wondering if he might find a master as well.”

“So,” Zabuza turned back toward Naruto. “You want to make a living in your own right?”

“Yes,” Naruto replied breathlessly. He felt as though the blood was draining from his skull. He had the sensation exited his own body, floating upwards against the ceiling.

“You’re asking me to take to you… Orochimaru?”

“Yes,” Naruto heard himself say. 

 

———

 

“How are you feeling, Sasuke?”

 

“I’m fine.”

 

Two young men sat in the back of a private vehicle with tinted windows, being driven through Konoha city to Uchiha Corp headquarters. Their blood relation was immediately apparent. They were both tall, slender, and pale as a silver conch, the effect of which was emphasized by respective masses of thick, black hair. Their greatest differences were presented in both face and dress. Itachi, the elder of the two at age 26, wore his hair in a low ponytail while dark sheaths of hair framed his face on either side, emphasizing his elegant, rectangular jawline. His nose was straight and carved, his eyes a bright red. Sasuke’s bangs were trimmed similarly, but the hair on the back of his head was shorn much closer to the skull, and his jawline was more angular and feminine. His nose was more delicate, and his eyes as dark as his hair. They both wore black suits, though Itachi’s had hints of pinstripes pricking through the darkness.

 

“Have you considered what you might like for a graduation present yet?” Itachi sat toward the left side of the car’s lush, dark interior, half turned toward his younger brother. He wore a white collared shirt and a slim Burgundy necktie of shining silk with his suit. A hint of a smile turned up one side of his straight and handsome mouth.

Sasuke, leaning against the right door so that quills of black hair almost brushed the window frame, crossing his legs. His suit was of pure black, and he wore a navy tie of a more matte weave than his brother’s. He held his head toward the right, looking out at the cityscape through the window with a diffused gaze. “The honor of finally joining Uchiha Corps. as a junior partner is enough of a present.” Sasuke said this with his head turned toward the window, watching the cityscape filter past.

“Hm.” Itachi smiled. “I hope you still think so for after working there for a year, little brother. As it, is, we’re on our way to the summary meeting of our quarter for the shareholders. While you have sat in on these before, this one will be particularly intense for you. As the newest member, you’ll be expected to lead the presentation, so our clients believe in our selection of you. The others will hold you up to a magnifying glass. If you are incorrect on any count, it may color your dealings with both the clients and the boards in the future.”

“I realize that it is different to be an employee than an interning student.” Sasuke’s expression did not change though his voice, smooth and dark like the frozen sea, so much like his brother’s, faintly clouded with annoyance.

Itachi smiled. “Just looking out for you, brother.”

The purring of the motor ceased at the car slowed down and halted in front of a tall office building comprised of blackened glass. It was a modern building, curved rather than cubical, and, staring from the bottom, looked like an enormous snake climbing into the sky. Neither of the brothers looked up at they walked into the hushed interior of the lobby.

The man holding open the door bowed deeply, as did the man at the front desk, nodding to both brothers. “Uchiha-sama. Uchiha-sama”.

“Good afternoon, Kaito,” Itachi replied, barely looking at him as they passed.

The shining doors of the elevator hissed open and the pair entered silently, though thin smile passed over his lips.

They rode in silence to the thirty-fifth floor, then disembarked, entering a hallway with deep red carpet. The office space they approached was walled off with glass. Itachi pressed a steel button and it hissed open as silently as the elevator. The fingerprint identification at Uchiha Corps was, like everything else, efficient, tasteful, and discreet. They took a left past the cubicles in the front of the office, away from the beeping of copy machines, the shuffling of interns and papers.

They arrived at a large, glass door which Itachi slid open. The other ten members of the board, informally known as the Akatsuki—Hidan, Kakuzu, Pain, Konan, Deidara, Sasori, Kisame, and the Zetsu twins—stood around the immense, rectangular room. Like the door, one of the walls was made entirely of glass, revealing an expanse of city skyline. Indeed, it made breathtakingly apparent how much they building was a part of the skyline as well. This particular conference room was the most impressive and always chosen for the shareholder’s summary.

Sasuke and Itachi took the two places between Hidan and Pain. Hidan, with slicked back, pale silvery blue hair smirked as Sasuke sat down next to him, his brown eyes rotating toward the newest partner. “Nice to see you finally made it, dude.”

“You too, Hidan.”

Pain barely looked in their direction before addressing the group. “Our shareholders will be here in a few minutes. They are here to learn why they ought to continue their continued support of Uchiha Corps.” Although Pain was not an Uchiha, he shared the position as CEO because of his experience and age. Sasuke and Itachi had been young when their parents had been murdered in their own house, and Pain had joined the company even before Itachi had graduated high school, rising to the top of his own accord. Itachi had followed in his stride, but was still junior compared to him. Pain’s hair was orange, something that may have made him appear more approachable, if it wasn’t for his serious, gray eyes and the fear he managed to somehow invoke without speaking much.

“There should not be much to worry about, however. Our losses were minimal and our growth has continued at 7%, while the return on investor’s stock is 11% rather than the expected 9%. Our expansion into cyber security and tracking technologies should excite them as well.”

The group nodded. Deidara and Hidan smirked with a sort of self-satisfaction.

“Our most important goal, currently, is to impress the representatives of SinaCore who join us today,” Hidan continued. “So don’t get too excited, yet. Would you care to fill us in on them, Itachi?”

“Of course.” Itachi pulled three large glossy photos from a manilla enveloped he’d extracted from his brief case. He held up the first. It was of a young woman, with sandy hair parted down the middle bangs on either side, brushing her dark eyebrows. The rest was separated into four parts, obviously in an attempt to tame it. Her pale pink lips were pursed, and her jade green betrayed the look of an intelligent, calculating person. “This is Temari Subaku. She is their co-chair of development. She is twenty-seven years old. I believe she is in line to become a managing partner, but I hear rumors she may stay at her current post. Something about her enjoying the more hands on work. She is more of a field person. Her colleagues, as far as I can tell, speak well of her, although they say she can be a little brittle at moments.” He put the image back in the envelope and held up the next, depicting a grinning young man with dusty brown hair. There was something broad and unrefined about his face, though it could be said to be endearing. “This is Kankuro Subaku. He is twenty-six. He is the co-chair of human resources. He is more laid-back than either of the other two, I hear. More sarcastic, although they are all quite blunt, from the short conversations I have had with them.” Itachi replaced the picture into the envelop and took out the final one. It showed a young man with bright red hair and large, almond shaped green eyes. Although the collar of his white shirt was visible, as were the beginnings of a black tie and suit, the  _ kanji _ for love was tattooed in blood red ink on his forehead, partially obscured by the flaming hair. “This is Gaara. He, like Sasuke, is twenty-four years of age and has recently risen to the position of managing partner. He is entirely calculated, always came, and unafraid to be aggressive when the situation calls for it. I hear from my contacts in SinaCore that he is well on his way to further advancement—they all fully expect him to become the CEO within the next ten years, if not sooner.”

A low whistle came from across the room. Itachi glanced at the offender, who’s yellow hair was pulled into a high ponytail with a large lock of it covering his left eye.

“In addition,” Itachi continued, “I sent all of you an e-mail this morning, citing the information listed on their LinkedIns and whatever else I could find. I would have done this earlier, but the Subakus were uncertain about their availability until earlier this morning.”

“Thank you, Itachi. Now, Sasuke,” Hidan turned his serious gray eyes to the younger Uchiha. “Why don’t you begin the presentation for us? I assume you have all your notes.”

“Of course, Nagato-san.” Sasuke crossed to the front of the room, opening his laptop and flicking on the connected projector, which hissed as it was lowered from the ceiling. He was not particularly nervous. He had done presentations like this, many times before, in both his two years of business school and at Uchiha Corps itself, since he had worked as a lower level employee proceeding the years to his acceptance as a partner. Nepotism, of course, had expedited the process, but the board members were not stupid enough to have allowed him to rise to the top without merit. “Prodigy” had been a word applied frequently to his academic performance, particularly in business. And it never hurt, in an industry that relied so much on posturing, that he emanated a mysterious charisma, that he was tall, dark and handsome—to put it in generic terms. Not to mention intimidating as hell when he needed to be, and charming when the situation absolutely demanded it.

And he had done much more complex presentations, ironically, while working at a lower level. A simple summation of the year ought to be a breeze. It was the delivery, he realized, that the Akatsuki was looking to judge, rather than his comprehension.

There was a knock on the door, and a subordinate opened it, with several clients in tow. One was a woman with gray hair and a cat under her arms. The Akatsuki moved to greet their clients, who filed in slowly, making small talk about the weather and their own lives and other respective business endeavors. Many of them were representatives or affiliates of larger companies from other cities. The room slowly began to fill. Sasuke’s eyes scanned the crowd for the Subakus as he chatted with an older man from the city of Kirigaken. There. He saw a shock of bright red hair, then the other two beside him. Just in time. Sasuke excused himself and made it to the front of the room. The lights dimmed.

“Hello, everyone. It is good to see you here, again. For those of you who may not remember, I am Sasuke Uchiha, the newest partner here at Uchiha Corps. This year, as I’m sure you know, we have made serious increases in our technological investments…”

 

———

 

Naruto swallowed nervously in the back of Zabuza’s Rolls Royce. Zabuza had offered to take him to Orochimaru right then, since he’d elected to take that particular Friday off, but Naruto had insisted upon going to the restaurant and quitting, “just for the satisfaction” of it—and it had been pretty damn satisfying. His manager’s face had grown red with rage, before he’d started yelling  _ Good riddance, you were always useless, should have hired a pretty girl _ before Naruto had called him a fat, stupid asshole—in retrospect, he could have come up with something a lot more funny—and then he’d left.

Zabuza had consented to Naruto’s request to quit his job, since it could have opened up legal problems if he had simply vanished in terms of his employment, but he had refused to take him to see Iruka, Kiba, or anyone else who Naruto would have liked to say goodbye to. “You’ll just make it worse,” Zabuza had told him. Naruto had insisted that he’d make up some lie, but Zabuza had just raised an eyebrow at him. “I know your type,” He’d growled. “You can’t tell a lie. They’ll know you’re hiding something. And they’ll just come looking for you. And that’ll just cause more problems for me.”

Naruto was overwhelmed. Had he made a mistake?  _ No _ , he kept telling himself. This was the only way he could help the people around him. He knew he worried Iruka. He knew he worried Kiba. And Naruto, for so long, had been having night terrors about debt, about his childhood… No. This was the best thing he could do. And Zabuza had assured him that he’d come up with some convenient lie to tell the school on Naruto’s behalf. That he’d gotten Naruto a job as a guide in the Andes, or something. Zabuza knew too many people for any lie involving a far away job to be infeasible, so it would be even better if he was the one to say it. And his friends would be happy for him. Iruka could stop worrying.

“This is good for me, too,” Naruto jumped a little as Zabuza’s voice shattered his trance. “Orochimaru-san may even consider you as the entirety of my payment on Haku”.

Naruto wilted. Of course there was something in it for him. At least it seemed like Haku was alright, he reminded himself. He knew his friend had experienced far, far worse.

The car glided to a stop in front of a cement building that appeared to be five stories tall or so. They were on the edge of the financial district, Naruto realized as he followed Zabuza toward a metal door painted gray.  _ It’s amazing we found parking here _ . He shook his head to rid himself of the inane thought. Where ever they were, this definitely seemed like some kind of back entrance. Zabuza pulled out his cell phone, dialled, but then hung up on the third ring. Minutes later, a man with gray hair pulled into a ponytail and glasses opened the door.

“Kabuto,” Zabuza greeted him, “It’s been quite some time.”

“It has,” Kabuto smiled, and Naruto could have sworn a flash of light momentarily reflected off of his glasses. He paused, his eyes sweeping Naruto up and down as he continued to smile. “Right this way.” He gestured for them to come inside, locked the door behind them, and began to descend a flight of stairs.

“Normally Karin would have received you, but she’s out right now, I’m afraid. You called at a very opportune time. Orochimaru-san was already lining everything up for tonight, and he was immediately intrigued when you, of all people, contacted him, Zabuza-san. And,” Kabuto paused, glancing back at Naruto, “I think he will not be disappointed”.

They descended another flight of stairs, before coming to a long, narrow hallway, with faint circular patterns etched into the floors and ceiling. It was dark and claustrophobic, Naruto felt, and the end of the hall was invisible in the gloomy light. They walked down it, Naruto’s apprehension increasing with every step. Finally, they came to another door, and Kabuto entered without knocking.

The room was dim, with a low ceiling. For whatever reason, several cots lined the walls, a rolling metal table was near the center. The floor was cool cement, and the wall paper was a deep red.  For whatever reason, several cots lined the walls, a rolling metal table was near the center of the room. A man with angular shoulders, wearing some kind of beige tunic was standing in the room, a curtain of long, dark hair falling over his shoulders and down his back. Naruto heard the faint sound of him putting something down on the table. He turned to face them. As he approached, Naruto could see his waxen skin shining under the flourescent lights and the shine of his golden eyes. A flash of anxiety shot through the young man. This was unquestionably Orochimaru, given what Haku had said about him.

Orochimaru smiled. “Hello, Zabuza-san. Thank you for agreeing to come in the back. We’d normally never have you come this way, but you understand the need for discretion.” He smiled wider, showing his white, angular teeth and remarkably large incisors. “Judging from the amount I’ve time since we last encountered each other, I’d say you’re quite happy with your… Investment. Tell me, how is sweet Haku?”

Zabuza grunted the affirmative. “He’s well.”

“And serves you well, I hope. But,” Orochimaru stepped closer to Naruto, walking in a slow semi-circle around him. “I know you didn’t come here to chit-chat about your slave. What do we have here?” Naruto felt the pale man’s luminous yellow eyes raking over his body. He suppressed a shiver.

“Is this for me?”

“Yes. It is.”

“Excellent,” Orochimaru purred. He fixed his gaze upon Naruto again. “If you would be so kind as to remove your shirt.” Naruto closed his eyes as he tugged the white shirt over his head, and dropped it to the ground. He allowed his lids to flutter open fractionally, giving him a blurry picture of the room as Orochimaru zeroed in on him, like a hyena sauntering up to a carcass. Naruto felt as though his humanity slipping away from him like a silk knot being tugged loose. But he had set everything into motion. There was no turning back now.

“Hm.” Naruto perceived a white arm reaching toward him, a long-fingered, long-nailed hand closed gently around his throat, resting at the crux of the fore finger and the thumb. His hand was so cold. How was anyone so cold?

The hand trailed down his chest, over his pectorals, his abdomen. One of the few joys that had remained in Naruto’s life was his physical fitness. He’d always loved to move, to run, to play soccer, anything. But recently, he’d been so exhausted, he hadn’t found the time, but his musculature had yet to lose its definition. “Very nice,” he heard Orochimaru breathe.  A flood of apprehension filled him as he felt the spidery fingers ghosting over his taut navel. Naruto couldn’t help but gasp, his eyes popping open as Orochimaru slid his hand past the waistband of his pants, into his underwear. He reflexively moved to thrash away, but Kabuto grabbed him by the shoulders, the gray-haired man wrapping his arms around Naruto’s, and held him fast.

“Now, now,” Orochimaru chuckled, but there was something cold in his voice. An edge of steel. A hint of warning. “Don’t worry,” his already quiet voice dropped to a whisper, “Zabuza-san’s already told me everything about you. Well,” he tightened his loose grip on Naruto’s genitals, and despite himself, Naruto felt a rush of blood that began to stiffen him, “Everything I need to know.”

Orochimaru extracted his hand, and Naruto exhaled, though Kabuto did not release him. He felt how red he was with embarrassment, his dick mostly hard, despite his own conscious desires.

“Well, Zabuza-san,” Orochimaru turned away from his ashamed victim, “I knew when you called me, it wasn’t to waste my time.” He grinned, “I imagine, though, you’d like something in return. And, somehow, I don’t think it’s a commission fee.”   
“That’s right.”

“If he goes tonight,” Orochimaru waved airily in Naruto’s direction, “I waive your next three payments. Or, and I’m assuming this may be preferable to you, you get Haku for another two years.”

Zabuza’s eyes hardened like flint. “I want either three years, or two years and two payments.”

Orochimaru laughed. “You drive a hard bargain, Zabuza-san. But, for you, it can be done. Haku is yours for now.”

Naruto tensed under Kabuto’s grip. So that was it, then? Haku was being exchanged for goods, services, and money, just like cattle? But Haku, at least, he reminded himself, was getting  _ something _ out of it. Right? The same thing couldn’t happen to him. He’d have to agree to the auxiliary payments, and there was  _ no _ way he was going to be at the beck and call of someone else longer than he needed to be.

“It was excellent doing business with you, Zabuza-san. Karin will be here momentarily to show you out.”

As if on cue, the door slid open, and young woman entered. Naruto could only see her out of the corner of his eye, restrained as he was, but he caught a flash of bright red hair.   
“Zabuza-sama! If you’ll come with me…” Naruto heard footsteps receding into the darkness.

“Kabuto,” Orochimaru turned his attention to his assistant and the man he held in place, “Put him over there.”

Kabuto slackened his grip on Naruto enough to pull him over to the metal table. “You can let go of me, you know. I’m not going to run,” Naruto glared over his shoulder at Kabuto. He was here of his own volition, right? He didn’t need to be treated like some prisoner.

“Let go of him for now, Kabuto.”

“Fine. But I’ll be close.”

Naruto rolled his eyes but was happy to feel the pressure on his arms alleviated.

“Sit here… What did Zabuza-san say your name was, again? Naruto?”

“Yes.” Naruto slid onto the metal table Orochimaru indicated.

“Give me your arm. The left one.”

Naruto proffered his arm, which Orochimaru turned so that the interior of the elbow was facing the ceiling.

“So, are you a virgin?”

“I’m… What? No!”

“But you’ve never been with a man?”

“Uh, not really.”   
Orochimaru laughed, “I can tell you haven’t been with much of anyone.” He tied a measure of rubber around Naruto’s upper arm, tapping the crook of the elbow until a vein rose in protest. “Kabuto. The needle.”

Kabuto approached with a metal tray that, from what Naruto could see, held a syringe, butterfly needle, and two sealed vials.

Orochimaru took the butterfly needle, inserting it under the skin in a single fluid motion, before attaching one of the sealed vials to the end of the tube now trailing from his new charge’s arm. “We have to test, you, obviously,” Orochimaru explained. His voice seemed to quiver on the edge of laughter at all times, “I have a standard to maintain. Standard precaution. I’ve obtained your medical records, but it seems you haven’t been tested for over a year now.”

“How… Did you get those?” Naruto felt as though his head was becoming light—he couldn’t tell if it was from the blood loss, though minor, the stress, dehydration, or the surrealness of the moment.

“Oh, I’m a doctor,” Orochimaru grinned at him, exposing his massive incisors once again. “And I have a friend who was kind enough not to remove me from the database. So I have access to all the information of everyone who goes to a public practice. I used to be one of the top practitioners in Tokyo, you know. But the hours were long, and I didn’t feel I was fulfilling my potential. I’ve always had a mind for business, as well, you see.”

By the time he was done talking he’d filled and replaced both the vials upon the metal tray Kabuto had placed on the table. Orochimaru reached for the syringe, and injected it into the same vein.

“You’re going to fall asleep now, for a bit, Naruto-kun,” his voice dropped to a deadly whisper again. “Just lie down on this table.”

Naruto opened his mouth, but it was true. He felt a wave of exhaustion and dizziness pass over him. “Urgh… Okay… I’ll just…” The room began to blacken, the previous dimness blurring together into darkness. He tried to lie down slowly, red and black swirling before his eyes. Why were his body, his eyelids, suddenly so  _ heavy _ ? “Augh…”

“That’s it…” Orochimaru soothed. His voice came from so far away… Maybe he was underwater. The atmosphere felt so thick. Naruto felt his eyes slide shut. He didn’t know what to do now. He should just sleep. Everything would be fine…

Orochimaru loaded a small needle into a gun. The was a small hiss as he inserted the chip into the fat at the base of Naruto’s left tricep. He didn’t bother telling either the slaves or the client’s about this procedure—why risk a loudmouthed slave spilling the secret, or a greedy client attempt to dig it out? As well as this measure, Orochimaru also demanded a back door into his client’s bank accounts. He was remarkably good at securing both their on and off-shore accounts. Somehow, he was very  _ persuasive _ .

Maintaining all this information had the added bonus of making him near impenetrable to the law force. If there was someone who wanted to rat him out—whether to cheat him of a slave, or through some misplaced sense of morality (a notion Orochimaru scoffed at)—the pressure of his hundreds of others clients to preserve their own information surrounded him like a shifting web.

Now, he waited for Naruto to rest.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um... bad things start happening, I guess. I need Jesus, I know.
> 
> Do we have any business students here?!?! You can tell me how egregious all my jargon sounds... I only have a faint idea of how finance works, eep. 
> 
> Tell me if you think i should put in a *scene* between zabuza and haku.
> 
> Sorry if this fic is awful, i've never written one before...
> 
> Oh, and I barely reread this, I'm sorry.


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